Indiana Jones and the Jungle of Terror (novel)
by 80s Dave
Summary: Set in 1931, Indiana Jones gets more than he signed up for. When he attempts to rescue a beautiful but primitive jungle woman, Indy comes face to face with the nightmarish mask of Demos, a mask with the power to make your greatest fears come alive! Join Indy and others as he faces peril in every form in "Indiana Jones and the Jungle of Terror"
1. 1: The native in the dark

INDIANA JONES

AND

THE JUNGLE OF TERROR

BY DAVID J. PITTS

TRANSCRIBED BY PETER S. PITTS

CHAPTER 1

As the dry, scorching heat permeates through the seemingly endless rolling dunes, four brave young American men trudge along wearily towards a gargantuan pyramid situated in solitude amidst the vast Egyptian desert during the summer of 1931. The group is led by a tan, stout man named Hank. As the foursome approaches the main entrance of the pyramid, Hank easily pushes the large stone door open, and snatches a dusty torch mounted on the dark, cold wall. Producing a silver lighter from his left front pocket, Hank ignites the torch, illuminating the eerie hallway ahead.

"Bobby, get that map out," Hank barks back to the shorter, thin man directly behind him.

"Are you sure about this? We don't know if this place is safe," Bobby meekly inquires.

The third man in the procession, a slightly husky chap named Scott, immediately chimes in, "So go back and tell the professor."

Hank responds, "Come on Bobby, we're all in this together, right?"

Bobby's voice is unconvincing as he replies, "…Right."

The final traveler is Gary, who beams with suspicious confidence as he outstretches his right arm and demands, "Let me get a torch." He scours the dimly lit ground on both sides of the cavernous hallway, and after a moment discovers what appears to be a torch near the shadowy wall. Gary reaches down and grasps the dark torch handle, only to realize that what he is clutching in his hand is the severed arm of a skeleton. He emits a high pitched shriek of sheer terror.

"Quiet! He ain't going to hurt you," Hank snickers as the rest of the group burst out into hushed, whisper volume laughter. The group continues down the long, mysterious pyramid hallway for several minutes, as Hank continually glances down at the tattered map.

"What does the map say, Hank?" Scott inquires.

Hank hesitates, then replies, "There should be a right turn… here." The four turn to a dead end.

"It's just a wall," Gary announces. "Not just a wall," Hank retorts, leaning against the wall with his right shoulder, causing it to move.

Scott excitedly asks "A hidden door?"

"Yes! There should be something just behind here," Hank answers as he steps closer to the wall. He pushes harder, and the wall yields. Cold wind engulfs all four men, filled with the abrupt sound of flapping wings as what seems to be hundreds of foul bats emerge from the crevice in the wall, and a human skeleton falls out slowly, as if awakened from a restful slumber by an unexpected disturbance.

"This place is full of dead people!" Bobby exclaims.

Hank recomposes his posture and proclaims, "No one's going to get us. Now come on."

The four explorers walk into the abysmal secret opening with caution. Several paces behind them, a dark skinned man, with the appearance of a savage native, silently follows them into the hidden chamber. The darkness in the room is so thick that the light from Hank's torch barely radiates a three foot radius of visibility. No one notices as Gary is swiftly seized by the native man in the pitch black hall. After wandering a few more paces ahead, Scott glances behind him and realizes there is no one there.

"Hey! Where's Gary?" Scott yells.

"Gary? Are you there?" Hank shouts into the darkness.

Bobby shrinks closer to the other two and asks "Do you think… something happened?"

Hank turns back to the direction they were traveling and replies, "Probably chickened out… He can take care of himself." Hank and Scott immediately pull out their pistols. "Just in case though…" Hank adds.

Bobby hesitantly follows the Hank and the lit torch, suggesting "Look, maybe we should turn back."

"It's too late Bobby. We go all the way," Scott responds.

"Okay, you win," Bobby reluctantly replies.

Hank chimes in "Just think about the money we'll get!"

Bobby seems unconvinced. "Someone will find out…"

Hank waves the pistol in an emphatic gesture and assures Bobby, "Look, no one knows what's in here. We'll just take a few small trinkets and leave the big stuff for the rest of the team to find. Okay?" Bobby nods a little, but remains silent.

As the men turn the next corner, the luminescence of the flaming torch reveals a multitude of intricately detailed hieroglyphics on the giant stone wall. Standing out among the symbols and shapes are several paintings of ancient Egyptians, perhaps of royal heritage.

Hank is momentarily captivated. "Look! These drawings must be thousands of years old! They really are amazing aren't they?"

Scott perceives the awe in Hank's voice as an opportunity to commandeer authority, as he urges, "Let's move on."

The three remaining men creep forward as the light departs from the wall of hieroglyphics. What appeared to be a vivid illustration of an ancient Egyptian in the center of the wall is actually the native man who has been covertly pursuing the adventurers. The native man stealthily grabs Scott from behind and pulls him into the unfathomable blackness, causing Scott to drop his pistol, which fires loudly as it strikes the ground. Hank turns around and fires a shot into the darkness. "Who's there?" he demands.

Bobby is shaking, and with panic in his voice whispers, "This was a bad idea, Hank. A curse is on us!"

"Shut up!" Hank orders, "I'll show you this curse has blood! COME OUT AND SHOW YOURSELF!" Hank yells with determination, and then charges into the darkness. Bobby's visibility quickly diminishes as Hank steps away from him.

As the flickering torch slowly becomes less visible, all Bobby can perceive is the shadowy silhouette of Hank against the dimly illuminated wall. All of a sudden, a second human silhouette seems to manifest out of the original shadow, and Bobby can no longer discern which shadow belongs to Hank. It is apparent that the two figures see one another. The shadowy silhouettes face each other, with the tension of a Wild West showdown. The hairs on the back of Bobby's neck stand at attention. After a moment, the thick silence is penetrated by the deep bellow of Hank's voice.

"Whoever you are, you're dead," Hank's words echo in the dark chamber.

The loud boom of a single gunshot startles Bobby, as he almost jumps out of his boots. One of the human silhouettes instantly falls with the same force as a steel anvil being dropped from a tall building. The following seconds of utter noiselessness seem to validate Bobby's worst fear: that the remaining human shadow still standing is not Hank. The silhouette seems to turn toward Bobby, and he realizes that he has been noticed, and is now likely to suffer the same fate as his companion.

Bobby high-pitched voice trembles as he begs, "Please don't kill me man!"

The native man's voice is deep and reassuring. "Pipe down kid. I'm not going to hurt you."

Bobby watches with hushed trepidation as the silhouette on the wall reaches either behind his back, or toward the front of his belt; he is unable to tell. A million thoughts flood through Bobby's mind as he believes that surely, despite the relaxed calmness and assuring words of the shadow-man's voice, he is going to be shot dead within a matter of seconds. He suddenly remembers promises made, but not fulfilled. He recalls dreams that he had as a much younger lad, but that he has now buried deep as a young adult, due to the high pressures of life. And he realizes that he had set so many goals throughout his life, a bucket list of objectives that he will now never fulfill.

As Bobby exhales a sigh of defeat, petrified with terror and unwilling to run blindly into the darkness, the shadowy silhouette pulls out what is almost definitely his gun. Bobby wants to close his eyes, but they are frozen open with fear. Harrowing suspense is immediately replaced with shock and surprise as Bobby sees not a gun, but a fedora style hat in the hands of the shadowy figure, which puts the hat on nonchalantly. The silhouette steps closer to Bobby, and he can now distinguish the face of the man with the fedora. Bobby is instantly flooded with relief as he realizes who the shadow-man with the fedora truly is.

"Professor Jones!?" Bobby declares; his voice is still trembling, but his terror has been replaced with confusion. He realizes that his college professor, Dr. Indiana Jones, has covered his skin with brown mud to change the appearance of his complexion to a more dark and native-like skin tone. Indiana moves closer to Hank's lifeless body and begins to search through his pockets. He pulls out a beige handkerchief from a front vest pocket.

"You don't have any water in that canteen, do you kid?" Indy responds to Bobby with a question, as he continues to search through all of the pockets in Hanks clothes.

"…Yes," Bobby stammers, perplexed, as he tosses the canteen that was hanging from his shoulder strap to Professor Jones. Indiana splashes some water on his face and uses the handkerchief to wipe off the thick mud. Indy then unrolls his brown pants, which were rolled up to his thighs. He loosens his belt, which is actually the strap to a tan satchel tied around his waist, with the satchel hanging behind him. Out of the satchel Indy removes a tan button down shirt, which he puts on with ease.

Bobby is full of befuddlement as he asks, "Why did you kill Hank, and what about the others?"

Indy turns Hank's body over and forages through his back pockets, finally discovering something which seems to be what he was looking for the whole time. Indy tosses the small item to Bobby. "Here's your explanation," he declares. Bobby opens his hand to reveal that the item which Hank had been concealing is a red Nazi swastika pin.

"Nazis!? But they're in our class," Bobby says with extreme bewilderment as he looks down at Hank, suddenly realizing the seriousness of the situation.

"Nazis will infiltrate anything that will help them," Indy explains. "I overheard them talking early this morning. They used you and stole my map."

Bobby's face seems to lose color as he tries to make sense of it all. "We were friends. They wouldn't hurt me… would they?"

Indy's right eyebrow rises as he responds, "… You don't want to know."

"So what now," Bobby inquires.

Indy replies in a directive, yet confident tone of voice, "We get what we came here to find. Might as well not turn back now; but stay close. There may be a surprise around every corner!"

"Whatever you say professor," Bobby responds in absolute compliance.


	2. the king's deadly chamber

CHAPTER 2

Indy and Bobby travel ahead through the pyramid tunnel. After about forty paces, they approach a dead end. The wall has many small hieroglyphics etched into it.

"Is there another hidden passage," Bobby asks.

"According to the map, the king's chamber should be right behind here. Help me push the wall," Indy orders as he and Bobby both lean into the cold stone wall, pushing with all their body strength. The wall does not budge.

"Do you think there is a doorknob of some kind?" Bobby asks with a grunt as they finally stop pushing against the immovable wall.

Indy replies, "I don't know. Let's ask the ancients. Maybe they can tell us." He leans closer to the wall to examine the small hieroglyphics. After a moment he says, "According to these, King Tui worshipped Sekhmet, their goddess of fire. If I'm interpreting this right, this should be the way in."

Indiana takes the torch from Bobby and presses the burning end against a seemingly normal spot near the bottom right corner of the wall. As miraculously as Moses parting the Red Sea, the pyramid door slides open and Bobby's jaw drops as the glimmer of gold and jewels shines bright within. They both step into the hidden chamber and Indy notices a small gutter-like shelf full of oil about four feet high against the inner chamber wall. Again using the torch to produce an incredible result, he lights the shelf of oil and the whole chamber is suddenly illuminated with the light of the flames. No longer needing the torch, Indy places it in a holder near the door. All around them are ornate Egyptian artifacts, which Bobby imagines combined must be valued at well over a million dollars. In the very center of the chamber lies a golden coffin sitting upon a foot-high jewel inlaid golden pedestal.

"This is it," Indy declares with enthusiasm. "The lost tomb of King Tui! We found it!" He slaps Bobby on the back in a celebratory gesture, smiling like a child who has just been given the keys to a candy store.

"Who was this guy?" Bobby asks.

"Not much is known about him, but he's believed to have ruled Lower Egypt around 3,400 B.C.," Indy responds in a matter-of-fact tone of voice.

They approach the golden pedestal and together slowly lift the heavy coffin lid, which makes a loud creaking sound. Indy and Bobby lean over and peer into the coffin. The mummified remains of King Tui lie peacefully inside, in a state of tranquil repose. The king is tightly gripping a golden cane-shaped scepter inlaid with many red, green, blue, white and black jewels.

"This is big," Indy announces with intense fervor. "This will be the find of the decade!" He seems to be momentarily lost in dreamland as the childlike grin returns to his face.

"I wonder how much money this stuff could bring in," Bobby adds inquisitively.

Seriousness overtakes Indiana's countenance, as if the biggest bubble he has ever blown had just been burst. "It's priceless," he retorts. "It belongs in a museum. I know just the guy too." A subtle grin re-emerges as Indy returns his gaze at the mummy and his golden staff in awe.

"Look at the jewels in the pharaoh's scepter," Bobby exclaims. Without permission or a moment to consider what he is doing, Bobby swiftly reaches into the coffin and grabs the scepter, tearing it away from the icy grasp of King Tui.

In a tone of horror and reprimand, Indy shouts, "No, don't touch that!" He is not quick enough to stop Bobby from what he has already done. In a matter of seconds, the booby trap within the coffin has triggered the release on the stone door from which the party has entered, and it promptly slides shut with a resonating thud, vibrating the ground ever so slightly. Then the room is silent.

"I'm sorry professor," Bobby apologizes meekly, like a kid who has just defied strict orders from his parents, awaiting admonishment.

"It's okay, you didn't know," Indy replies in vocal tone laced with frustration. He immediately moves to the door, pushing and prodding all around it. "Nothing. Look around. Maybe we'll get lucky and find a big hole in the wall," he says with forced optimism.

At that moment, a rumbling grinding noise echoes throughout the sealed chamber. The sound is loud and earth-shaking, as if large stones are being grinded against each other by a giant. Bobby looks up and notices a five foot square stone sliding out of the wall many yards above them.

"Ah, Professor! I think we're about to get lucky," Bobby exclaims.

"Not lucky, dead! Get back," Indy shouts quickly and pushes Bobby a few feet away, as the giant boulder comes crashing down very close to the spot Bobby was standing, crushing an Egyptian statue instead. The priceless artifact is smashed into pieces, as Indy and Bobby recoil away from the flying debris, shielding their faces with their arms. They are unharmed.

The grinding sound ceases, and Indy surveys the room, remarking, "We're safe. I think we're okay now."

As soon as Indiana finishes his sentence, the grinding noise returns, this time magnified and louder, as three more stones begin protruding and sliding out from the cavernous wall above them. Bobby and Indy are clearly in imminent danger.

"We're not safe!" Bobby shrieks in a shrill, high-pitched voice, as he cringes and stands as close to Indy as possible.

"Watch yourself," Indy replies in a calming tone, almost as if the present situation is no surprise to him.

Bobby is the opposite of calm as he and Indy dodge the three falling blocks, which smash several other valuable artifacts into smithereens. "What are we going to do?" Bobby stammers in a tone of complete terror as the grinding continues and more stones begin to protrude from the wall above.

"We need to get in one of those holes somehow," Indy declares.

"How," Bobby begs, "They're too high up!"

Two more stones fall simultaneously as Indy and Bobby jump and stride between them, narrowly averting death. The rumbling sound increases in volume as five more stones begin to slide out from the high wall above. Indy rapidly moves to the center of the chamber and grabs the mummified body of King Tui, pulling him out of his golden casket just before one of the stone blocks lands directly on top of the coffin, destroying the irreplaceable object of historical significance.

"What are you doing professor?" Bobby asks as he continues to dodge flying debris from multiple crashing stones.

Indy begins unraveling the preserved bandages of the mummy as fast as humanly possible, revealing a hideous skeletal upper torso. He tears the long bandage off halfway down the mummy's petrified body. "Give me the scepter," he yells to Bobby in a commanding tone, in order to be heard over the intense grinding sound. Bobby obeys and tosses the scepter to Indy, who ties the long strip of bandage to the curved end of the golden cane.

"You're making a grappling hook aren't you?" Bobby asks in amazement, smiling for the first time during the current catastrophe at his own deduction.

"Look out!" Indy yells as he tackles Bobby, pushing him about six feet away from the gargantuan plunging stone that would have smashed him like a porcelain doll.

"We have to get out now!" Indy proclaims and throws his makeshift grappling hook like a javelin directly toward the nearest hole in the wall, which is approximately twenty feet high. He gives the mummy rope a strong pull to secure the grappling hook, which miraculously holds firm.

"You go first. Hurry," he instructs Bobby.

"Will this hold me?" Bobby asks hesitantly.

Indy points to the hole above and declares, "Ask later. Climb now. Hurry!"

Bobby begins to climb awkwardly. About midway on his ascension, the bandage begins to tear. "Hurry professor, it's starting to rip," He shouts down at Indy.

Indy begins his ascent up the formaldehyde-scented rope as the bandage tears even more. "Whoa!" he exclaims.

Bobby makes it to the five foot hole in the stone wall and climbs inside. "Hurry," he shouts down at Indy, who is still ten feet away, "It won't hold long!"

As Indy pulls himself up another few feet, the bandage tears completely and he emits a single scream as he begins to fall towards his death. At the same moment, another large stone begins protruding exactly where Indy had been climbing, as if commanded by King Tui or some other divine power. Indy is able to grab hold of the moving block with both hands on his way down, and he quickly pulls himself up onto it, as it protrudes further. He knows he only has a matter of mere seconds before the moving block on which he is standing falls as well, taking him down with it.

Bobby, who is witnessing in horror the adrenaline pumping events, quickly removes the scepter from its wedged spot in the pyramid wall hole, and in a moment of heroic valor swiftly reaches down and extends the golden cane toward Indy. "Grab this professor!" he yells.

Indy jumps up and barely reaches the golden scepter, grasping it tightly with his left hand, just as the stone block he was standing on protrudes completely from the wall and crashes down below him. Bobby, who clearly hasn't spent many recent days exercising his frail arms, is straining hard, struggling with Indy's weight below him. Indy manages to grasp the scepter with his other hand, and notices a giant block directly above the hole from which Bobby is pulling him begins to move. He realizes that he has to be pulled up in a matter of seconds to avoid death once again.

"Pull harder! Hurry! Hurry!" he demands to Bobby, this time with sheer panic in his voice. Bobby musters all the strength he can and pulls with all his might, screaming and grunting as he is barely able to haul Indy and the golden scepter up into the hole. The multi-ton stone block above them falls at that instant, barely missing Indy's feet by a centimeter.

Indy stands up and dusts himself off a bit, recomposing himself to his usual confident demeanor. He notices the mechanisms by which the stones in the wall had been sliding out due to the triggering of the advanced booby trap system set by the Egyptians hundreds of years ago. Indy admires the complexity of the ancient Egyptians in astonishment. He is unable to determine exactly how the mechanism works, but he notes a primitive pulley, a fulcrum and pivot system also made of stone, and several smaller holes within the wall. He and Bobby are standing in several inches of sand, so he infers that the pulley system and fulcrum and pivot system are intertwined with some advanced form of sand displacement, all of which was linked to the golden scepter placed in the casket of King Tui. Indy wishes he had more time to delve deeper into the technologically advanced secrets of these intelligent ancient people.

Bobby looks at Indy with relief and a sly grin as he inquires in an assuming tone, "This does count for extra credit right?"

Indiana returns a genuine smile, and answers, "We'll see, first let's finds a way out.


	3. The greedy Spanish man

CHAPTER 3

Indiana and Bobby proceed into an opening in the pyramid wall within the large hole they have found sanctuary in, between two ancient pulleys. The opening becomes a long narrow passage way through which they walk carefully and slowly, using the light from Indy's lucky four-leaf clover lighter to guide their way. After several paces, they find themselves at a dead end.

"Now what?" Bobby asks with a sigh. Indy looks intently at his map.

After a moment he responds, "If I'm reading this map correctly, we should be directly above the main entrance hall."

"There's no way we can dig a tunnel," Bobby says decidedly. He notices a small rock-like object protruding from the floor. "What do you think this is?" He kicks it lightly and something makes a noise like a gear turning.

"What did you do?" Indy asks Bobby in a scolding tone.

"I don't know," Bobby replies defensively. "I just touched this rock and the noise started."

Indy looks around and responds, "Well, at least nothing is moving."

No sooner does he finish his sentence then the ground begins to shake and the stone block on which they are standing begins to slowly descend downward like an elevator. "Whoa," Indy exclaims.

"What's going on?" Bobby inquires in an anxious tone.

"Hold on," Indy warns, "We're going for a ride!" They brace themselves for impact.

After a few seconds, the stone comes to a shaky halt at the bottom of the pyramid near the main hall.

"That wasn't bad at all," Indy declares with an amused smile.

Bobby and Indiana climb down the five foot stone that has just guided them to the ground level of the pyramid. The hallway through which they had initially gained entrance into the heart of the pyramid is now blocked with stones, but the main entrance is directly ahead of them about thirty feet, with the light of the desert sun beaming brightly.

"We made it!" Bobby exclaims with joy.

"Let's get out of here," Indy commands.

As they jog towards the liberating light of the outside world, a human shadow comes into view from outside the pyramid. Bobby and Indiana stop short in their tracks. A middle aged Spanish man steps into the main pyramid hall with an air of conceited confidence. The man is dressed in a very expensive-looking brown polyester suit, with a puffy light blue silk shirt and a pair of shiny dress shoes made of the hide of some type of reptile. He is about six feet tall, seemingly in excellent physical shape, and is currently pointing a silver pistol with an ivory handle at Indiana and Bobby.

"But you just got here Dr. Jones," the Spanish man declares loudly in a thick Latin accent.

Realizing who the dangerous man is, Indy fires back with surprise, "Ivan Jaso?! What are you doing here?"

"The same thing you are, Jones," Ivan replies with a vain smile and a sparkle of greed in his eyes, "Looking for treasure. I had some of my men helping me, but it seems that you had to kill them. I thought you were a nicer guy than that."

"I'm nice to human beings, not to soulless Nazi rats," Indy jabs with disgusted animosity, as though the mere mention of the word Nazi leaves a seething bitterness in his mouth.

The evil smile on Ivan's dark-skinned face widens, as he replies, "You hurt me with your words Senor! Now hand over the scepter, and your gun." He cocks back the hammer on his silver pistol and motions to the gun on Indy's belt.

Bobby immediately throws the scepter at Ivan's feet with shaky hands. Indy's countenance remains disdainful as he slowly tosses his pistol to the gun-wielding intruder.

"Marvelous," Ivan exclaims with vanity and pride. "A piece like this will attract a lot of buyers!"

"Please let us go," Bobby stammers with fear, "We won't say anything."

Ivan responds with a devious laugh, "Sorry hijo, you two better get comfortable. These walls are very thick and very heavy, so I think you'll be here quite awhile. But don't worry, Senor, someone just like will discover the secret entrance, just like you did… And in only about three thousand years!" He laughs again, a malicious chuckle that resonates throughout the pyramid chamber.

Ivan strolls out of the pyramid with the shiny pistol still pointed at them, and initiates the mechanism which starts to close the clandestine pyramid entrance with the sliding stone door. Ivan watches from outside as the heavy door slowly closes.

Just before the door closes completely, Indy's eyes meet Ivan's, and Indy shouts "You need to spend the next three thousand years practicing your English accent!"

The stone door slams shut, leaving Indy and Bobby in dark solitude. Meanwhile, Ivan gets into the back seat of a brand new 1930's coupe, and speeds away from the pyramid. Simultaneously, a white-robed man with a shroud around his face walks toward the front entrance of the pyramid from his secluded position around its left side.

Inside the main pyramid hall, Indy strikes his lighter and begins looking high and low for any indication of a way out.

"What can we do?" Bobby asks, feeling defeated.

"I'm thinking," Indiana replies. "If only we had a grenade, we could blow a hole through the wall."

As if his words had the power to manifest a miracle, an explosion occurs just then at the main entrance. Indy and Bobby dive to the ground to shield themselves as the earth-rattling explosion sends pieces of the stone door flying wildly into the hall. Smoke and stone debris are all around them. The explosion seems to have stopped.

"Whoa," Bobby yells triumphantly, "How did you do that, Professor?"

They slowly stand up and dust themselves off as the smoke begins to dissipate. The light from the bright sun once again pours in through the new opening. As the dust and smoke clears further, the white-robed man becomes visible at the entrance, holding a bazooka and coughing from the smoke.

"Sallah?!" Indy exclaims with amazement.

The robed man finishes his coughing spell and responds, "Indy! What are you doing in there?"

"What are you doing with a bazooka?" Indy asks. "You could have opened the door yourself!"

Sallah looks at the opening he has just blown in the pyramid wall with his bazooka and declares, "I was aiming for Mr. Ivan's car, but I guess I had this thing turned backwards!" He laughs like a child who has just accidentally earned a reward for good behavior. "Come on, I've got some horses."

Indy looks at Bobby and orders "Get back to camp and get your stuff. Then get on a plane home."

Bobby seems a little sad that his adventure has come to an end, but also relieved. "What are you going to do, Professor?" He gazes at Indy with respect and endearment.

"I'm going to get what I came here for," Indy replies in a determined tone of voice. "Now go. Get out of here!"

Bobby nods in compliance and begins a fast-paced sprint in the direction of his camp. Indy and Sallah mount two large white steeds, and direct them to gallop in the opposite direction.

"We must hurry, Indy," Sallah shouts as their stallions maneuver swiftly through the sand dunes. "Our man must be heading towards his private plane."

Indy knows exactly where they are going: a small private airport only a couple of miles away. A look of stern perseverance is obvious in his eyes. The two men ride as fast as their horses will take them in the direction of the airport, leaving a cloud of dust behind.

END OF CHAPTER 3


	4. fight of the airplane

CHAPTER 4

Indiana and Sallah approach the small desert airport on their steeds at a full gallop. In the distance, they can see Ivan and a pilot preparing to board a small, open top-two seat airplane with a single broad propeller on the nose. The airplane is directly outside a small gray hangar.

"Sallah, try to find something useful in that hangar," Indy says. "Maybe you can slow them down. I'll get the scepter!" They continue to gallop at full speed toward Ivan and his getaway plane.

Sallah nods in agreement and replies, "I will try." He rides up to the hangar as Indy rides directly toward the small plane. With a swift maneuver, worthy of recognition from any equestrian enthusiast, Indy jumps from his galloping stallion onto the left wing of the airplane.

Ivan notices Indy and screams to his pilot, "It's Jones! Get him!"

The pilot, a well groomed, muscular fellow, pulls out a pistol and fires a shot at Indy, barely missing. Indy moves closer to the pilot and smacks him with a right backhand gesture, causing him to drop the gun outside the plane. Indy pulls the pilot by the collar of his shirt out of the cockpit and onto the wing, where they begin a fierce wrestling match.

As the battle on the plane's wing ensues, Sallah is searching intently for something useful in the hangar. Against the back wall, he discovers a large, thick black towing chain. "Ah," he exclaims, as he grabs the free end of the heavy chain. Both ends of the chain have large towing hooks attached. Sallah heaves one end around a steel beam near the rear of the hangar, and attaches the hook to one of the links, pulling it tight.

Meanwhile, Indy is furiously wrestling with the pilot on the plane's wing. They roll across the wing as Ivan draws his silver pistol, attempting to aim at Indy, but unable to get a clear shot. Indy and the pilot fall from the wing onto the hot cement runway. Indy breaks free long enough to stand up, and the pilot swings his fist with a wild haymaker, connecting with Indy's left jaw. Indy spins around from the contact and answers back with a left-right jab, which barely fazes the burly pilot. The pilot responds with a left hook which knocks Indy a few feet back. Indy takes another step back to regain his center-of-gravity, inching closer to the front of the small plane. The pilot charges at Indy, who wraps his arms around his broad back, once again locking up in a wrestling stance. The pilot, whose strength is obviously greater than Indy's, easily shakes him off and grabs him from behind. With one muscled arm around Indy's body, the pilot forces Indy's head in the direction of the loud spinning propeller, which is a few feet away from them.

The pilot yells to Ivan in a commanding voice, "Bring the plane closer!"

Ivan jumps into the cockpit and engages the thrust, moving the plane forward slowly. Indy struggles and flails his arms wildly in an attempt to break free of the pilot's strong grasp, but to no avail. The plane continues to move forward as Ivan laughs maliciously, eager to chop his adversary into mincemeat. Sallah, who has been struggling with the heavy towing chain, rushes toward the rear end and attaches the hook to the plane's back right wheel. The broad spinning propeller is now only a foot away from Indy's face, and the extreme wind blows the brown fedora right off his head. Ivan and the brawny pilot laugh in unison as the plane inches forward, with the propeller destined to cut Indiana Jones into ribbons. Just as it seems that his fate has been sealed, the tow chain attached to the back wheel becomes taut and the plane suddenly ceases moving, miraculously only a few inches away from Indy's head!

Indy takes advantage of his window of opportunity, and thrusts his head backwards as hard as humanly possible, catching the surprised pilot with a strong head butt. He breaks free from the pilot's hold and turns around swiftly while moving about three feet away from the still-spinning propeller. Without giving the pilot a moment to recompose himself, Indy channels all his energy into a powerful right-handed uppercut, knocking him to the ground. The pilot seems to be unconscious for the moment.

"Sallah, get the horses ready!" Indy shouts over the loud sound of the rushing air and the noisy plane engine.

"Right, Indy," Sallah responds as he rushes off to gather their steeds.

Indy immediately climbs back onto the left wing. Ivan, who is taken aback by the sudden turn of events, fumbles for his pistol. Indy leaps from the wing at Ivan, who is now standing straight up in the small cockpit. Ivan glares at Indy with rage and malice as the two men struggle for control of the shiny gun. The pistol discharges about five shots as they wrestle. Two of the bullets ricochet off the moving propeller and strike Ivan directly in the chest, killing him instantly. Indy begins looking for the golden scepter as Ivan's lifeless body slumps forward onto the plane's controls, simultaneously engaging the plane's fuel release valve and pushing the trust forward all the way. Fuel begins pouring out of the plane's tank, and the thrusting power causes the back axle to begin to tear free from the frame.

The plane now moves forward a few inches as the rear axle bends further, close to breaking. Fuel continues to pour out of the moving plane, spilling onto the head of the pilot, which wakes him up right away. Indy snatches the scepter from underneath the back seat of the plane and jumps out onto the concrete runway, only to be faced with the now standing pilot, who is soaked in airplane fuel. The pilot grabs Indy and thrusts his head against the side of the plane multiple times, knocking the scepter out of his hands. The aviator releases Indy, who falls like a sack of bricks onto the runway. As the pilot challenges Indy to stand up and fight, Indy removes his four-leaf clover lighter from his pocket and lights it. He holds it just close enough to the pilot for the fumes to ignite, and the pilot bursts into flames. Indy grabs the scepter and runs in the opposite direction of the plane as the pilot falls to the ground, rolling and screaming. He rolls right into a large puddle of fuel under the plane, which immediately ignites with a loud explosion, catching the entire plane on fire. The rear axle of the plane tears off completely and the fiery plane accelerates recklessly down the runway.

Sallah rides up to Indy with their horses.

"Let's go," Indy declares readily.

Indy mounts his stallion and places the priceless jeweled scepter carefully into the saddlebag. At that moment, the misguided flaming plane crashes into the wall of another small hangar not far away with a boisterous explosion. The flaming propeller wheels directly toward Indy and Sallah. "Look out!" Indy screams. They brace themselves for the worst, but the propeller rolls right between the horses and falls to the ground with a soft clunk. Indy and Sallah open their eyes, realizing they are still alive and unscathed.

Sallah smiles at Indy, and nods his head in a gesture of approval. "I think you better leave Cairo for a long while, my friend," he remarks with relief.

Indiana and Sallah gallop away from the desolate airport as another small plane flies overhead, disappearing into the azure desert sky.


	5. Indiana's good news

CHAPTER 5

It is a warm, sunny day at Marshall College. Professor Indiana Jones stands in front of a green chalkboard addressing a small auditorium full of young college students. The demeanor and appearance of Dr. Jones is quite different from that of the adventurous archaeologist who departed from Cairo just a few days prior. Dr. Jones is dressed in a well-pressed brown suit, with a near perfectly folded brown bow-tie against a white pin-striped shirt with a matching brown vest and a pair of freshly-shined tan loafers. He also wears a pair of thin-rimmed spectacles, making him appear intellectual and wise. He paces between the chalkboard and a small, modest podium with a level of earned self-assurance laced gently with ardent enthusiasm. After a breath of preparation, Dr. Jones breaks the thick silence.

"I believe the true line of research lies in the noting and comparison of the smallest details," Dr. Jones begins. "That is a direct quote from William Flinders Petrie. Petrie is considered by many experts as the founding father of archaeology." He pauses, surveying the attentive audience, before his follow-up inquiry. "Now does anyone know what his most important and notable find was?"

Dr. Jones does not have to wait more than a second before a vigilant, familiar young man shoots his hand up zealously. The student is wide-eyed and well groomed, and seems to have acquired a slight sunburn recently, noticeable on his cheeks and forehead.

Dr. Jones points his index finger at the eager student and says, "Yes Bobby?"

"I believe it was the Merneptah Stele," Bobby replies instantly.

A subtle grin forms on Dr. Jones's face, as he remarks, "Yes, that is correct. The Merneptah Stele was discovered in Thebes, which was once the capital of Egypt." There is a drawing of the stone to which he is referring on the chalkboard, and he motions toward it as he teaches.

"It's interesting to note that on line twenty-seven of the stone was a symbol that translated . ." Dr. Jones's voice trails off as he writes the letters on the board.

He continues the lecture, "This greatly confused German philologist Wilhelm Spiegelberg who was helping decipher the stone, so Petrie looked at it and suggested it must mean Israel." Dr. Jones surveys the audience with a pause once more, and concludes, "We'll stop there on that thought and continue tomorrow right where we left off."

At that moment, the end-of-class bell rings in the hall and the college students begin to scurry away. "Seems I had perfect timing for once," Dr. Jones adds to the scrambling students. "Okay, class dismissed and I'll see you next week. Be sure to have your term papers on my desk by Monday," he adds firmly.

Dr. Jones finishes putting his papers on his desk in order, and exits the empty auditorium. Outside his door, a good friend and museum owner, Marcus Brody, stands patiently. Marcus is dressed in a gray suit with a black and white striped tie.

"Hello, Indy," Marcus says with a smile. "I wonder if you have a moment."

"Sure Marcus," Dr. Jones replies, "What's on your mind?"

"Well I just came by to let you know that I met with the museum committee," Marcus blurts out with excitement.

Dr. Jones's demeanor changes to that of a lively schoolboy. "Marcus… You mean…?"

"Yes!" Marcus exclaims with a huge grin. "We have decided to make your newest piece one of the main highlights of the new Egyptian exhibit. We open tonight, and you're going to be my guest of honor!"

"Ha, ha! I'll finally get some recognition from a few rich snobs that have been eluding me these last few years." Dr. Jones gloats.

"Ah yes," Marcus reassures, "Your chance to soak up glory!"

"Let's not overdo it… you'll get your share in the lime light too," Dr. Jones replies, consciously attempting to suppress his exhilaration.

"Yes, I suppose so," Marcus declares.

"What time do the doors open tonight?" Indiana asks.

Marcus replies with precision, "Seven o'clock."

"I'll be there," Indiana affirms.

"We'll see you there," Marcus replies. "And wear a tux."

The two friends smile silently at each other in eager anticipation of the upcoming festivities.


	6. Night at the museum

CHAPTER 6

Indiana Jones, dressed in his best black tuxedo, steps into the museum lobby while suppressing a subtle level of elated apprehension. Marcus, also dressed in a freshly pressed black tuxedo, is across the room speaking to an elderly couple. His eyes make contact with Indy from across the lobby. "Excuse me," he says to the couple, and turns his attention to Indy. They approach each other.

"Hello Indy," Marcus greets him. "Shall I show you the new exhibit?"

Indy smiles and nods his head, replying "Lead the way."

The two friends begin meandering through the winding museum hallways, passing a myriad of historical memorabilia.

Marcus's excitement is obvious in his voice as he declares, "This exhibit will be one of the best we've ever done here, I think. I am confident we will see a lot of contributors after tonight's engagement." They stride down to the end of a hallway which is connected to two adjacent hallways leading in opposite directions.

"Which way?" Indy inquires.

Marcus looks down both hallways briefly before answering "Ah, left I believe. Yes, left."

They walk several feet down the hallway, and Indy chimes in "So how many guests should we expect tonight?"

Marcus strokes his chin and answers, "I invited around one hundred or so. Wait, this isn't the way!"

"Don't you know where the exhibit is?" Indy asks with an eyebrow raised.

"Ah, yes; well you see, the excitement has made me lose my sense of direction, I'm afraid," Marcus explains. They approach a security guard who is standing post at the end of that hallway. Marcus leans over and asks the guard which way to the new exhibit. The guard shrugs his shoulders.

"I think this is the way," Marcus declares to Indy, pointing down a perpendicular hallway.

Indy scoffs and replies, "I thought you knew this museum like the back of your hand!"

"Just a minor error in judgment is all," Marcus says with confidence.

"But this is your museum!" Indy exclaims with a slight laugh.

They finally approach the room containing the new exhibit, which is full of finely-dressed men and women, most of whom are adorned in opulent jewelry and pretentious attire. Marcus and Indy separately intermingle with the guests, hob-knobbing and chatting casually. After several minutes, Indy is drinking his second glass of champagne, and he turns around to a startling discovery. Standing directly behind him, speaking to an American man in his mid fifties, is his father.

"Dad!?" Indy exclaims with surprise.

"Junior!" Henry Jones declares. "What are you doing here?" His tone is also surprised, but strangely scolding.

"I contributed to the exhibit," Indy responds defensively. "The scepter of King Tiu. Why are you here?"

Henry elevates his chin and replies, "Marcus invited me! I am a professor, you know. So this is your doing, huh boy?" Henry motions with his left hand to the Egyptian exhibits behind them.

"Not quite," Indy answers, meekly. "Just a couple pieces." He lowers his head slightly.

Henry's face changes from a look of pride to a slight degree of pity as he says, "Well, perhaps next time you'll do better."

Indy feels defeated, embarrassed, and irritated, but forces a feeble smile anyway. "Right," he responds. "Well, I better get back to the guests."

"Very well, Junior," Henry says dismissively. "I won't hold you up."

Indy excuses himself and walks over to Marcus.

"You didn't tell me my dad would be here," Indy accuses him, annoyed.

Marcus winces as he replies, "I'm sorry Indy… I must have forgotten."

"It's okay," Indy replies with a sigh, obviously frustrated.

"I really wish you'd talk things out with him," Marcus says gently. "You have barely spoken to him in years."

Indy responds, "You talk as if there's something to mend. He raised me until I was old enough to take care of myself." He pauses, and then finishes with, "What more can one ask from a father?"

Marcus shakes his head and says, "I guess I don't know."

Just then, the man who Henry was speaking to approaches Marcus and Indy from the side.

"Henry Jones Jr., I presume," he addresses Indiana in a slight Italian accent.

"Yes," Indy answers cordially. "Everyone calls me Indiana," he adds in the same tone he uses to correct one of his students who has given the wrong response to an inquiry during a lecture.

The gentleman smiles and responds, "My apologies. My name is Vito Summers." He extends his right hand to Indy, who grips it firmly in a handshake.

"I asked to speak with Henry Jones," Vito continues, "And was introduced to your father! There seemed to be a slight mix up." His eyes are deep and piercing, and he gazes at Indy with intrigue.

"I see," says Indy. He excuses himself from Marcus, turning his undivided attention to Vito. "So, is there something I could help you with?"

Vito's response is immediate. "I wonder if I could talk to you in private."

Indy nods in agreement, discerning in Vito's voice and demeanor a depth of dedication, determination, and desperation.


	7. the deal over drinks

After the conclusion of the museum exhibition, Indiana Jones strolls into a quiet nearby bar to meet with Vito in seclusion. Vito is situated in the corner of the dimly lit room, leaning forward with one arm rested upon a small mahogany cocktail table. Another man sits beside him, who is about thirty years of age, with an average build. The younger man is dressed less formally than Vito.

"Dr. Jones," Vito exclaims fervently as he and the younger man rise from their seats. "Please sit down." He gestures for Indy to take a seat in a chair facing himself and his companion. Indy pulls the chair slightly around to one side of the table, so as to be facing both gentlemen but also able to see the front door of the bar and the rest of the room out of his peripheral vision. Always being aware of his surroundings is a practice his father had instilled in him many years ago. The three men sit down in unison.

Vito nods his head toward the younger man seated to his left. "This is my colleague and friend Max Kelly." Max extends his right hand, which Indy shakes firmly.

"Good ta meetcha mate," Max declares with a thick Australian accent.

"Likewise, I'm sure," Indy responds congenially.

A waiter approaches the table, and Vito inquires to Indy, "Can I get you a drink?"

"Scotch on the rocks would be fine," Indy comments to the waiter, who nods silently and walks toward to bar.

Vito leans forward in his seat eagerly and says, "Allow me to inform you why I have asked to speak with you in private." He reaches into a black briefcase situated underneath the table and retrieves a copy of the New York Times. The newspaper is obviously outdated, but still in pristine condition. He slides the periodical over to Indy and remarks, "Would you please read this article."

Indiana pulls his wire-rimmed spectacles out of his inside jacket pocket and puts them on. He mentally notes that the newspaper is dated 1918, and begins to read the article Vito motioned to. After a few seconds he glances up at Vito and replies inquisitively, "This is about you?"

The waiter returns with a generous pour of scotch in a rocks glass, delivering it to Indy, who takes a moderate gulp immediately.

"Yes," Vito responds without hesitation. "About thirteen years ago, my wife and daughter were on a plane headed home when they crashed somewhere over Asia." He pauses, letting his words take effect before continuing, "They were never found."

Vito turns to Max and comments, "Show Dr. Jones the article."

Max pulls out another newspaper from the briefcase, this one much more recent. He slides it across the small table to Indy. It is dated 1931.

"This paper is from my hometown in Australia," Max indicates.

Indy speed-reads the article on the page Max has opened. He comments after a few moments, while still skimming, "It says a young woman about mid-twenties has been sighted a number of times near the coast of the Bangladesh jungle."

Max leans back slightly in his seat, crosses his arms, and elaborates, "I was the one who told the story to the paper. My mate and I were exploring down there in the jungle. We take a trip every year to explore a different part of the world, and this year we went to Bangladesh. We both saw the jungle woman, but when we tried to talk to her, she disappeared into the treetops; quick as a kangaroo. Later on that night, we were ambushed by some natives. My friend was captured, but I barely escaped with my life. I didn't want to leave him there, but…" Max's voice becomes soft and emotional as he trails off, staring at the wooden ceiling of the bar. Indy notices a subtle redness and glazed look in the whites of Max's eyes. He identifies genuine concern and emotional turmoil in Max's demeanor, and detects a sense of sincere pain in his vocal tone.

"You had no choice," Indy finishes Max's sentence softly, and with compassion. "I understand." Indy and Max make piercing eye contact, as Vito looks at Indy with intrigue. "This jungle woman," Indy continues, "Was she one of the natives?"

Max sits up in his chair, swiftly removing the look of nostalgia from his visage. "I don't think so," he replies. "She was light skinned. The natives there were very dark."

Indiana, deducing the inevitable conclusion, remarks, "So, you think she may be…" He pauses briefly.

"Yes, Dr. Jones," Vito chimes in. "I believe she may be my daughter. The plane in which she was travelling lost communication around the same area. It MUST be her." Vito leans in closely to Indiana, staring at him with intensity. "You understand, I must try to find her." The silence is palpable for a moment, as Indy absorbs the information.

Finally Indy remarks, after a moment, "How did you hear about this jungle woman story from New York?"

"I have a friend in Australia who read the article and called me with his theory," Vito explains. "I then located and contacted Max and proposed that we may be able to help each other out."

"I'm hoping my friend is okay, but time is vitally important," Max interjects. "I know exactly where to begin looking, but we desperately need an expert like you to help in our endeavor."

Vito immediately continues, as Indy reclines slightly in his chair and takes another sip of scotch, "We have read about your many adventures, Dr. Jones, and the thing about this jungle is… most people don't dare go into it." Vito's voice is full of severity as he says, "It is said to be filled with terrors beyond imagination. You are one of the only men in the world we believe who could handle such a challenge. We are willing to pay, of course." Indy's eyebrows rise slightly as he awaits the proposal. "Twenty thousand dollars," Vito declares without flinching. "Whether we find my daughter or Max's friend or not, you get the entire sum." He looks deeply into the eyes of Dr. Indiana Jones, anticipating his response.

The silence permeates the table for merely a moment before a large grin forms on Indy's face. He takes a long drink of his scotch, finishing the glass, and replies, "That's a very tempting offer, gentlemen." He looks at Vito and Max individually, pausing for a few seconds more. Then he sets his rocks glass of ice down on the table and leans back into his seat, as he asks, "When do you wish to depart?"

A smile forms across the faces of Vito and Max simultaneously, as the three men look silently at each other, realizing that they are on the verge of embarking upon a journey that may very well unravel the fabric of the nature of their existence on this earth, and redefine the meaning of adventure.


	8. welcome to the jungle

CHAPTER 8

Indiana Jones, Vito, and Max arrive at the airport terminal in New York City. The three men board a large passenger airliner headed to Dhaka, Bangladesh, via layovers in London and Rome. As they settle into their comfortable first class seats, Vito breaks the silence.

"It will be a long flight, Dr. Jones; would you like something to read?"

Indy slouches in his seat and replies, "Na, just wake me when we get there!" He pushes his brown fedora down over his eyes and quickly drifts off into dreamland as the plane accelerates across the runway, gaining speed and elevation.

Several hours later, the plane finally lands in Dhaka. A rugged, open-top jeep with four-wheel drive awaits the party in the airport parking lot, arranged by Vito. The air is humid and the sky is cloudy in Bangladesh as Max drives away from Dhaka, away from civilization, and nearer to the coast of the verdant jungle. They stop in a tiny, impoverished village on the outskirts of the wilderness before embarking upon the most dangerous leg of their journey.

As Vito and Max walk into the town's small store for some supplies, Vito looks to Indy, who is stretching his legs, and says, "Mr. Indiana, this will be our last civilized stop for a couple days. Wouldn't you like to get a few things?"

"Thank you, but I prefer to travel light," Indy replies without hesitation, staring into the green tree line ahead.

"As you wish," Vito responds.

Max chimes in, "It'll be a bloody hard trek mate! Ha, ha."

Indy ignores the comment as Max and Vito enter the store. Indy strolls over to a bench by the front door and sits down next to a young boy. The lad appears to be about seven or eight, and is dressed well. He is stirring a coke bottle with a straw.

"Hello sir," the lad greets Indiana politely, looking up from his coke, "Are you Americans?"

"Yes," Indy replies, engaged. "You?"

"No sir," the boy answers back. "England." He once again stirs his coke inside the bottle.

Indy appears intrigued by the boy's action and comments, "Why do you keep stirring that coke?"

"It has lost all its fizz," the lad answers despondently.

"Let me see that," Indy requests as he holds out his hand. The boy hands the coke bottle to Indy, who takes the straw out, covers the top, and shakes it vigorously for about a second. He hands the now super-fizzy coke back to the boy, who beams with a smile as he takes a drink.

"There," Indy states matter-of-factly. "Next time shake it. Don't stir it. What's your name son?"

"Bond, sir," the young man replies, "James Bond."

At that moment the boy's parents emerge from the store and the father calls out, "Come son." As the English family departs, James waves goodbye to Indy, who nods back from the bench.

Indy glances over his shoulder and notices a small, tan, open tent. Inside the tent a group of people seems to be listening to the words of a few others standing in the back. Indy notices the emblems on their uniforms, and realizes the small group in the back is a party of Nazi officers. They are handing out pamphlets and apparently spreading their propaganda.

Vito and Max emerge from the store, each carrying a backpack full of food and supplies.

"Is everything ok," Vito asks Indy, noticing the look of alarm and disgust present on his face.

"Nazis," Indy responds abhorrently. "They seem to pop up everywhere." He shakes his head in repugnance.

"What do they want here," Max inquires.

Indy shrugs his shoulders slightly and replies, "I guess they're trying to recruit more followers." He scoffs.

"These guys can be dangerous," Vito adds. "You don't think they'll cause any trouble, do you?"

"I didn't come here to fight them," Indy decides. "We better get going."

As the men walk toward their rented jeep, an old man with scraggly white hair, dressed in a dirty tattered cloth, emerges from behind the store. The old man approaches the trio of adventurers and speaks with a raspy voice in a thick dialect of broken English. "Don't go in deep jungle. Those burning green eyes… if you see them… you die! Don't go! Please don't go!" The wily old man's voice is noticeably anxious as he pleads with Indy, Max, and Vito.

"Thank you for the warning," Indy replies nonchalantly, as they load up into the jeep.

"What do you make of his warning," Max asks as he starts the ignition.

"Probably delirious," Indy replies dismissively, with a slight grin. "All your jungle critters have green eyes!"

"Let's move on," Vito exclaims. "We have a long way to go. Max, lead on."

"Right mate," Max agrees as he shifts into first gear.

They drive further away from civilization, on the outskirts of the unpredictable jungle. An open field not far away is full of many elephants and several rhinos.

"Ah," Max says, "I'm always in awe of the magnificent wildlife! Even being from Australia, you never get used to it."

"I know," Indy agrees. "Believe me."

"Seven Wonders of the World are really too few," Max adds.

Vito leans forward in his seat and exclaims, "Look, the jungle is dead ahead!"

The lush vegetation and wildlife overcome the small openings and fields, as the incredible thickness of the jungle presents itself ahead.

"Yeah," Max replies, "This is where I left when I escaped."

"You didn't enter here?" Indy inquires.

Max shakes his head and responds, "Na, we flew in on a sea plane several miles south from here… by the coast."

"Do you know where the plane is now?" asks Indy.

"Not entirely sure. My friend flew it. Maybe we can find it too and fly out." Max seems hopeful as he stops the jeep by the edge of the jungle thicket.

"Looks like we go on foot from here," Vito comments.

As they men hop out of the jeep, Vito and Max hoist their heavy backpacks onto their shoulders. Indy tosses his light satchel around one shoulder, removes his gun from its holster, and steps in front of them, facing the abysmal jungle.

"This is where I take over," Indy remarks with confidence. "Stay alert and stay close. This place isn't for kids."


End file.
